


I'm Only Looking at You

by hickeystyles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Forbidden Love, M/M, Pining, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:05:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hickeystyles/pseuds/hickeystyles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is about to get married to someone else. Harry wants to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Only Looking at You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello everyone I legitimately wrote this in a half hour and barely edited so yeah don't judge too hard. I just wanted to do a short cute one shot of them and I think Louis looks great in tuxedos.
> 
> P.s. this is based off of a Taylor Swift song "Speak Now" because I was listening to it and got stuck with inspiration

Harry squared his shoulders, inhaling a deep breath, thinking about the fact that what he was about to do was singlehandedly the craziest thing he’s ever done in his whole twenty two years of life. And Harry _knew_ crazy. Flashbacks of streaking naked on a drunken night across the football field and standing on the ledge of a multiple story building singing dumb songs with Liam didn’t even compare to what he was about to do. That was the minor leagues.

He opened the doors to the church, trying to be inconspicuous about it. He almost tripped over his shiny new dress shoes, a step up from his closet full of normal dirty brown boots and beat up white converse, but caught himself before he made a scene. 

Slinking over to the corner, Harry drank in the atmosphere of the white veil occasion. People were chattering, all white smiles and bright eyes. Women in flowing dresses with hair tightly pinned to their heads, makeup painted on their faces. Men in tuxedos, ties fastened tight on their necks and shirts ironed without a wrinkle in sight. 

The church looked lovely as well. Bunches of flowers at every pew, yellow tulips and white daises overflowing and white ribbons traipsing alongside of them. An arch of white blossoms was above the altar, green vines intertwining them together. 

Niall was the first person he recognized, laughing loudly at something Zayn said, both of their hair gelled high on their heads, hands folded politely in front of them as they stood slightly next to the altar. Liam was fussing with his tie, as it had become askew from running his hands over it, but he overall looked nice and spiffy with his new grown stubble on his jaw. 

The Calders were off to the side, dressed in horrible pastel colors, their snotty noses turned up as they gossiped about the wedding guests. One of them, blonde hair in a tight slicked bun, even pointed a manicured finger and giggled, whispering into the ear of another. Harry couldn’t help but feel his blood boil at the sight of them. They shouldn’t even _be_ here, and this wedding shouldn’t even be happening. He clenched his fists a few times and took another deep breath, slipping into a backroom to collect himself. He pressed his back against the wall, resisted the urge to run his fingers through his curls, because his older sister Gemma had fussed all morning gelling them right. _You can’t look like a bum like you always do Harry,_ she had scolded, _it’s your big romantic gesture! It’ll be talked about in the history books! And get away from that stupid bandana it’s a wedding for Christ’s sake!_

If Gemma was here now, it would have calmed his nerves more. No one else knew about his plan that was either very romantic or very, very, _very_ stupid. When he thought of it last second, slipping into his tuxedo and hopping out the door as he put on his shoes, speeding and breaking every traffic law, all he could feel was the adrenaline in his veins. He was so impulsive, always thinking with his heart and not his head. His mum always said his big heart was going to get him into trouble one day, and boy was she right. He could imagine what would happen if he told they guys: Liam would have sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and get a crease in his brow, lecturing Harry on how unwise it was. Zayn would have slapped him in the back of the head and call him an idiot. Niall would have just turned it into a joke and said he was fucking crazy while laughing his stupid blonde head off. 

His constant stream of thoughts was cut off by the sound of shrill yelling, someone who was close to hysteria. He would recognize that voice anywhere, the annoying accent drilled into his mind, although he’s sure he’d never heard it this upset. 

“What do you mean, you don’t know where your flowers are?! Are you dumb or just down right _retarded?!_ ” Eleanor’s voice was jumping an octave higher, her thin arms flailing around, almost knocking the white veil off her head. Her brown eyes were filling with tears and her face was red and contorted with rage. The girl, Harry was assuming was one of her bridesmaids, was cowering with a helpless look on her face. He decided that was his cue to leave before Eleanor saw him and turned her Bridezilla wrath on him. He was, very rudely, uninvited from the event with some choice language he didn’t want to repeat. Not that he could really blame her, per se, because he would be pretty upset if his husband-to-be invited the guy that he was really in love with at his wedding.

Harry slipped out of the room and went back into the main room, hiding in the back. He looked up and his heart flew in his throat. He was pretty sure he was going to throw up and or cry at the sight he saw. It was Louis, _of course_ , it was always Louis, who was in front of the altar, in a crisp black suit. His hair was in a nicely styled quiff, a strained smile on his lips. His blue eyes, usually so bright with life, were lifeless as they searched the faces of the guests, a lot of people he didn’t even know. But god, he still looked breathtakingly gorgeous, so much that Harry's breathing started to turn shallow. 

Harry thought back to when he and Louis were laying on his bed, both properly fucked out, Louis’ head laying on Harry’s bare chest and their white fluffy comforter draped over their bodies. Harry was running his fingers through Louis’ feathery hair, not caring if there were traces of sweat in it. Louis looked up at Harry with his impossibly blue eyes, his cheeks rosy and lovely, and intertwined their fingers together, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s stomach, right over the butterfly tattoo. He had murmured, staring in Harry’s eyes, _when we get married, can we please do it somewhere on the beach? Maybe on some tropical island, where you can get a tan on that pale skin of yours and we can have this beautiful ceremony with the waves in the background and all of our closest friends and family and no one else. We can even be barefoot, and we won’t have to get all spiffy and we can go off on our own afterwards, lying on the beach with the sand between our toes. Wouldn’t that be nice Harry? Just you and me._ Harry nodded, kissing each of Louis’ fingers and Louis had smiled his breathtaking crinkly eyed smile.

Of course Eleanor didn’t know what Louis wanted, because when it came to them it was only about her. She wanted a big white wedding with hundreds of guests and fine champagne and a four layer cake, not caring that Louis didn’t want that. Ever. He hated putting on a big show in front of strangers and he wanted it to be intimate, because even though he denied it, Louis was a huge sap at heart. 

In reality, though, if Eleanor actually listened to what Louis wanted, she wouldn’t be, you know, _marrying_ him. Because Louis didn’t love her. He never did. And he never would. 

Louis was just so frustrating, because he was scared, scared, _scared_ all of the time. His family didn’t approve of him being gay, so they set him up with a “lovely” (emphasis on the quotation marks) girl who was curvy in all of the right places and had soft brown hair that cascaded past her hips. And he went along with it. Just like that. Because he was scared to defy them, he was scared of being openly gay to the world, and he was just scared. 

And now, Louis was _marrying_ her. 

As if he and Harry haven’t been in love with each other since the day they accidentally bumped into each other in a movie theater bathroom, quite literally, with Louis’ blushing cheeks and embarrassed little giggle and Harry’s too wide grin. As if the two of them haven’t been dating for five years now (or they were dating before Louis broke up with Harry for Eleanor), sharing a flat and drinking tea with morning kisses and fitting into every nook and cranny of each other’s lives, knowing each other inside and out. 

Harry wanted to hate him for it, he really did, but it was hard to stay mad at Louis for long. And in all honesty, he just hated seeing Louis so lost and sad on that altar, waiting for the doom of the rest of his life spent pining after another. 

Harry's thoughts derived him from the task at hand, but he was jarred back into reality when the organ started up. The normally cheery song sounded to him like a death march, his heart beating faster to every step. Spotting some curtains, Harry slipped behind them, just in case he was spotted. Eleanor _really_ hated him. Probably from the amount of times she’d caught him with Louis’ dick in his mouth, even after the two had “split” for the big white wedding, but still. Semantics. 

Two flouncy little girls pranced down the aisle first, un-artfully throwing flower petals down the path behind them, their bouncing curly hair framing their cherubic faces. The bridesmaids came next, their gowns an ugly shade of purple with frills, undoubtedly picked so that Eleanor could outshine them. And next, it was Eleanor’s turn, as she plastered on a bright smile on her face, her makeup reapplied perfectly and her hair curled artfully down her back. To him, her dressed seemed as if it were shaped like the pastries he used to bake at his old job, frilly and white and princess-like, flowing out in a big poof. It bounced with her every step, concealing her long legs. The expression she wore made her look like a pageant queen. Harry half expected her to lift her hand up and wave at all the guests all Barbie like. Her father walked next to her, a stern man with a thin lipped grin as he walked in step down the flower-petaled aisle. Nausea climbed up Harry’s throat again. He climbed back into a seat because his knees felt all wobbly and he was sure he was going to pass out if he stood up any longer. No eyes were on him anyway. 

Usually, Harry’s favorite part of a wedding is seeing the groom’s face as the bride walks down the aisle. The man’s eyes lighting up as he sees his soon-to-be-wife, how beautiful she looks, how lucky his is to spend the rest of his life with her. That joy on his face is Harry’s favorite part, but as he stared at Louis’ face, all he saw was sorrow. It wasn’t obvious because Louis was a damn good actor, but Harry knew his Louis. And his Louis was deeply upset as Eleanor flounced down the aisle. Zayn looked as if he wanted to reach out and give Louis a reassuring squeeze, because he knew how upset Louis was. In fact, Niall, Liam, and Zayn all looked devastated for Louis; they knew it should be Harry up there with him. 

The priest started in on the ceremony, his balding head shining in the lights of the church. Harry’s foot started tapping nervously on its own account as the priest babbled on about loving each other for eternity and other lovey passages. The ceremony seemed to be speeding up, going faster and faster to his eminent death. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to go through with this. 

Then he heard the words he was waiting for. 

“Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the priest announced, addressing the guests. Louis turned to them, with pleading eyes, as if asking someone to jump out and say something, but the silence dragged on. Harry knew this was when he was supposed to stand up, but it seemed as if his legs wouldn’t budge. He was about to miss his chance. As if by some miracle, he slowly stood, his hands shaking uncontrollably. 

The priest was about to speak but paused as he noticed Harry, and slowly everyone’s gazes fell on Harry. Their looks were horrified, as if they couldn’t believe their own eyes. Eleanor looked like she was going to faint. Liam’s jaw actually dropped, Niall’s eyes were wide as saucers, and Zayn just shook his head in shock. 

But Louis…. Louis’ eyes were shining with tears. Everyone else faded away when Harry’s green eyes were met with blue and locked the gaze. 

Harry cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out stronger than he felt. “I…. I’m not the kind of guy to just rudely barge in on a wedding, quite frankly my mum would beat me if she knew I was doing this. But Louis, I know for a fact, you are not the kind of guy to marry the wrong person,” He took a deep breath, letting that sink in, “Louis, we’ve been in love with each other for years now, and I know you thought it would be easier to just make everyone else happy and marry Eleanor because that’s the kind of caring person you are, but it’s not right. Louis, I’m in love with you, I always have been, and I know you love me too. Please, don’t say yes, just run away from the altar, call this whole thing off, I’ll meet you at the back door.” 

He didn’t even register the gasps around the church, or Eleanor’s mum crying hysterically in the corner, Zayn holding in his shocked laughter. He was just holding Louis’ watery gaze, until it broke into a huge smile. “God, you _idiot,_ I love you so much,” Louis' voice cracked, “I’ll meet you at the back door.” The church broke out in chaos after that, everyone talking at once in alarmed voices at what was going on and someone shrieked (probably Eleanor) but Harry turned around towards the back door and didn’t look back. 

He made it a little bit past the church before he collapsed in a pile of limbs in the tall grass that needed to be mowed in the field behind the church, his adrenaline calming down from the stunt he just pulled. 

“Harry Edward Styles, god _damnit_ I love you so much you stupid, stupid-“ Louis came out, his tuxedo jacket shucked off so he was only left in a white button down and a tie. He cut himself off as he yanked Harry to his feet by his lapels and shoved their mouths together so hard it was almost painful. “God Harry I can’t believe you did that, but I’m so glad you were here, you came, I didn’t think you did.” 

And by then Harry could taste some salt in the kiss as Louis started crying and Harry pulled away, kissing the tears off of Louis’ cheeks. “Stop crying baby please,” Harry said, but then he realized tears were running down his face too. “I love you so much Lou.”

“I love you too Harry, but god can we please get out of here?” Louis laughed through his tears, intertwining their fingers together. 

“I’ll go anywhere you want to go, Lou,” Harry smiled, kissing Louis one more time on the lips because he knew he could. All the drama that they just caused faded behind them, left to be dealt with another time. 

After all, they _did_ have all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! My tumblr is hickeystyles.tumblr.com if you want to chat x


End file.
